It rubs me the wrong way when governments tell citizens they are too dumb to care for themselves. This shows up frequently when a “snow emergency” is called and folks are told they shall not drive because Big Brother knows best.
Today, a Channel 4 (Columbus OH) reporter asked Licking County Sheriff Randy Thorp what the different levels of snow emergency mean. He said the levels are set according to difficulty of driving.
He said these levels are more like advisories to citizens so individuals can decide whether to stay home or not, or words to that effect.
Hooray for the sheriff who, today at least, removed Big Brother’s unnecessary interference in lives of citizens.
Showing posts with label weather. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weather. Show all posts
Friday, February 5, 2010
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
What bad weather?
While humans were shoveling and sliding and plowing and worrying, there was a better lifestyle and this cat knew exactly what it was - in a sun puddle behind the wood stove.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
When you think blizzards, think about the misery of 1978
Folks too young to remember 1978 haven't yet experienced blizzard misery nor anything close, no matter what TV's talking heads are saying about the recent weather.
The '78 storm was vicious and painfully cold. My kids were home for a week, three days of which they spent huddled under blankets in the room with a wood burner because power lines had snapped all over Licking County. Many families without wood burners took to public shelters and some rural areas were without power for weeks.
As for the tribulations of producing a newspaper under blizzard conditions, check my old clippings over at the Tea Party. It'll warm your world and remind you of what you narrowly missed in 2008. Here's the link.
The '78 storm was vicious and painfully cold. My kids were home for a week, three days of which they spent huddled under blankets in the room with a wood burner because power lines had snapped all over Licking County. Many families without wood burners took to public shelters and some rural areas were without power for weeks.
As for the tribulations of producing a newspaper under blizzard conditions, check my old clippings over at the Tea Party. It'll warm your world and remind you of what you narrowly missed in 2008. Here's the link.
Saturday, March 8, 2008
No, I insist on going out in this weather and driving for pleasure
The forecast is: Snow. Areas of blowing snow. Snow accumulation 3 to 5 inches. Total accumulation of 12 to 15 inches. Highs in the mid 20s. Northwest winds 15 to 20 mph with gusts up to 40 mph. Chance of snow 100 percent.
Which makes me just want to bitch-slap the next smug little person on TV who reads the above words into a camera and then adds: "Don't drive if you don't have to."
(Review and discuss: Take your siren and stuff it.)
Which makes me just want to bitch-slap the next smug little person on TV who reads the above words into a camera and then adds: "Don't drive if you don't have to."
(Review and discuss: Take your siren and stuff it.)
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Memories of the Blizzard of '78
There are a couple essays at Newark Tea Party describing what the news effort was like during the Great Blizzard.
The first tells of the nasty prelude to the blizzard. It wasn't well-remembered, I don't think, that Licking County was winter-weary even before the storm.
I called Mother Nature a slut, and all hell broke loose, but the news staff was up to the challenges. That aside, the press didn't roll on one of those days for the first time in the history of the Advocate.
The first tells of the nasty prelude to the blizzard. It wasn't well-remembered, I don't think, that Licking County was winter-weary even before the storm.
I called Mother Nature a slut, and all hell broke loose, but the news staff was up to the challenges. That aside, the press didn't roll on one of those days for the first time in the history of the Advocate.
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Take your siren and stuff it
Originally written and posted here 10/12/06, the following essay was called to mind today by the mindless, endless, ever-more annoying sirens of downtown Newark. Assuming there were a tornado in the area, which there isn't, it would be so very advantageous for our saviors in city and county government to turn that damned thing off so we - who are not in the least feeble-minded (as they assume) - could listen for the approach of a tornado. Yes it would. Anyway, here's what I've always thought about those who work the tornado thing for all that's in it - for them ...
Among the unforgettable stories Bill Cosby tells is the one about his childhood love for radio horror shows. He’d sit in a darkened room, feel exquisite terror at the likes of The Squeaking Door and, trembling with anticipation, he’d yell at the radio, “Scare me!”
Laughing with us about our fears is okay. Using our fears to entertain us, as does Stephen King, is also acceptable. Pure foolishness, though, is our willingness to allow bureaucrats and media to jerk us around by playing on fear.
They have us pegged as a mindless bunch with a perverse desire to be frightened, a desire on which news departments prey with considerable diligence. Trolling for better ways to scare us — and fill vast blocks of media time and space — “news” people focus on weather because it’s easy and always available. Unfortunately, weather, no matter what it is, can be always be used as the basis for some incredible threat.
It almost never snows unless its potential for havoc is snaked across the bottom of the television screen.
It rarely rains without dire warnings of flood waters. Watch out for the heat! cold! humidity! puddles! (Yes, puddles: A “news caster” warned that “they may be deeper than they seem.”)
And, terror of terrors, you can bet the midwest will hear tornado warnings all summer.
The National Weather Service and its media hangers-on have gone berserk. Weather has become a tool for ratings, and every would-be media star milks it to a trembling audience.
To shore up our anxiety, we have positioned on public dole legions of bureaucrats whose purpose is to give new depth to our fear of any weather. They’re called “Emergency Management Agencies” or “County Disaster Services Agencies” or some equally ominous name, and mostly what they do is try to scare hell out of people.
Take, for instance, the fuss about tornadoes. It is a fact that tornadoes are totally unpredictable. A tornado can appear from the sky any place under certain conditions, and it can touch down or not. Once down, it can quit almost immediately, or leave a long and totally unpredictable swath of death and destruction.
But enter bureaucracy to save us. It has a way of dealing with this. It simply sets off incomparably annoying sirens at the merest hint — or rumor — of a tornado. Often, sirens go off because of unconfirmed tornado sightings many miles away. This is our command to run to the basement.
This is bureaucracy at play in its most irksome format. The matter is nearly beyond repair, however, because no matter how frequently sirens warn of non-tornadoes, the fact that weather bureaucrats have pulled our chain is always passed off as a “story” with blindness and apparent approval.
Bureaucrats can with certainty expect to read in the next day’s paper such drivel as: “In Newark, the mournful wail of tornado sirens could be heard through the slashing rain and growling thunder.” (The headline over this article, by the way, said: “Tornado report proves unfounded; Warning sends residents under cover.”)
Or, “At 10:34 p.m. Thursday, Ramey, chief meteorologist for the National Weather Service in Columbus, made the call, and 108 sirens across Franklin County began to wail.” Weather bureaucrats know, if nothing else, how to create a flood of ink, especially if it’s a dull day at the cop shop.
Lots of folks probably snatch children from their beds and huddle in closets and basements. It must be rather exciting for parents, though their kids may forever live in fear of rain, thunder, and wind.
The climate since Bill Cosby’s childhood has changed. Now, you no longer have to go to a darkened room to catch a frightening radio show. You can just turn on the TV, open a newspaper, or even go to bed. You don’t have to yell, “scare me!” because you’re sure that idiots in the media and government will give it their best shot.
It is a fact that it always rains, snow piles up, and the wind blows. It is also a fact that whether or not a tornado is about to get you has always been unpredictable and still is.
Better we go back to The Squeaking Door, put a lid on bureaucrats, tune out the media, and get some sleep.
Among the unforgettable stories Bill Cosby tells is the one about his childhood love for radio horror shows. He’d sit in a darkened room, feel exquisite terror at the likes of The Squeaking Door and, trembling with anticipation, he’d yell at the radio, “Scare me!”
Laughing with us about our fears is okay. Using our fears to entertain us, as does Stephen King, is also acceptable. Pure foolishness, though, is our willingness to allow bureaucrats and media to jerk us around by playing on fear.
They have us pegged as a mindless bunch with a perverse desire to be frightened, a desire on which news departments prey with considerable diligence. Trolling for better ways to scare us — and fill vast blocks of media time and space — “news” people focus on weather because it’s easy and always available. Unfortunately, weather, no matter what it is, can be always be used as the basis for some incredible threat.
It almost never snows unless its potential for havoc is snaked across the bottom of the television screen.
It rarely rains without dire warnings of flood waters. Watch out for the heat! cold! humidity! puddles! (Yes, puddles: A “news caster” warned that “they may be deeper than they seem.”)
And, terror of terrors, you can bet the midwest will hear tornado warnings all summer.
The National Weather Service and its media hangers-on have gone berserk. Weather has become a tool for ratings, and every would-be media star milks it to a trembling audience.
To shore up our anxiety, we have positioned on public dole legions of bureaucrats whose purpose is to give new depth to our fear of any weather. They’re called “Emergency Management Agencies” or “County Disaster Services Agencies” or some equally ominous name, and mostly what they do is try to scare hell out of people.
Take, for instance, the fuss about tornadoes. It is a fact that tornadoes are totally unpredictable. A tornado can appear from the sky any place under certain conditions, and it can touch down or not. Once down, it can quit almost immediately, or leave a long and totally unpredictable swath of death and destruction.
But enter bureaucracy to save us. It has a way of dealing with this. It simply sets off incomparably annoying sirens at the merest hint — or rumor — of a tornado. Often, sirens go off because of unconfirmed tornado sightings many miles away. This is our command to run to the basement.
This is bureaucracy at play in its most irksome format. The matter is nearly beyond repair, however, because no matter how frequently sirens warn of non-tornadoes, the fact that weather bureaucrats have pulled our chain is always passed off as a “story” with blindness and apparent approval.
Bureaucrats can with certainty expect to read in the next day’s paper such drivel as: “In Newark, the mournful wail of tornado sirens could be heard through the slashing rain and growling thunder.” (The headline over this article, by the way, said: “Tornado report proves unfounded; Warning sends residents under cover.”)
Or, “At 10:34 p.m. Thursday, Ramey, chief meteorologist for the National Weather Service in Columbus, made the call, and 108 sirens across Franklin County began to wail.” Weather bureaucrats know, if nothing else, how to create a flood of ink, especially if it’s a dull day at the cop shop.
Lots of folks probably snatch children from their beds and huddle in closets and basements. It must be rather exciting for parents, though their kids may forever live in fear of rain, thunder, and wind.
The climate since Bill Cosby’s childhood has changed. Now, you no longer have to go to a darkened room to catch a frightening radio show. You can just turn on the TV, open a newspaper, or even go to bed. You don’t have to yell, “scare me!” because you’re sure that idiots in the media and government will give it their best shot.
It is a fact that it always rains, snow piles up, and the wind blows. It is also a fact that whether or not a tornado is about to get you has always been unpredictable and still is.
Better we go back to The Squeaking Door, put a lid on bureaucrats, tune out the media, and get some sleep.
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